


Blind Date

by craterdweller



Category: MacGyver (TV 1985), Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Action, Blind Date, Broken Bones, Crossover Pairings, F/M, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Rare Pairings, Supernatural Elements, loss of hearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 19:18:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13841298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/craterdweller/pseuds/craterdweller
Summary: MacGyver and Helen Magnus go on an awkward but memorable date.





	Blind Date

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts:
> 
> Madlibs: MacGyver and Helen Magnus go on an awkward but memorable date  
> H/C Amnesty Round: hypothermia, broken bones, loss of hearing, attacked by creature (wild card)  
> GYWO Yahtzee: New York City

MacGyver shivered as he tucked his chin into the collar of his leather bomber jacket. He was going to kill Pete. Maybe he’d been a little down lately, but he didn’t need anyone setting him up on a blind date. He angled his watch to catch the pale illumination from the bare-bulbed light hanging on the wall just outside the door. Not quite eight o’clock. He had arrived early, an old habit of scoping out a location before a meet ingrained from his work.

An icy gust of wind sent trash spiraling down the deserted alley. A few doors down, a homeless man rummaged through a dumpster. If his date didn’t show soon, he’d see about taking the guy to a shelter or at least take him to an all-night diner for a hot meal. He hated New York with its towering skyscrapers and narrow alleys. It always felt suffocating. Like the city itself wanted to swallow him whole. _Why did she ask to meet here?_

He turned at the sound of high heels tapping across the cobblestone. A stunning brunette approached from his left. In her early forties if he had to guess; she was well-dressed in black slacks and white silk blouse. Her London Fog raincoat hardly seemed adequate protection against the chill. Not a woman that needed a blind date. But this was also not the safest place for a woman to be alone. “Cold night for a walk.”

“Yes. I’m meeting someone.”

Her accent surprised him—British, though he couldn’t place the region. She held out a gloved hand. “Mr. MacGyver, I presume? I’m Helen Magnus.”

_Was she his blind date?_ He smiled and grasped her hand lightly. “Pleasure, ma’am.”

“I take it our mutual friend wasn’t exactly forthcoming?”

Mac chuckled. He definitely was going to kill Pete. “No, ma’am.”

“What did Pete tell you, Mr. MacGyver?”

“Please, it’s Mac. And not much.” He was momentarily lost in the blue of her eyes. _Knock it off, Mac. She’s obviously here as a client. Pete was just having a bit of fun._ “How can we help you, Ms. Magnus?”

She made a point of looking around. “Do _we_ need a chaperone?” She teased as she looked him up and down. “You look like a man that can handle himself.”

Mac grinned and held out his crooked arm. A sense of humor to go with her beauty. Maybe he wouldn’t kill Pete after all.

She wrapped a hand around his forearm, and they began walking. “Pete mentioned you weren’t keen on New York, so I took the liberty to make us a reservation.” She indicated a door about halfway down the alley. “The chef is an old friend. The entrance to the private dining room is back here for privacy. Some of his clientele attract the paparazzi.”

“Ah. That explains the choice of location.”

“But?”

Before Mac could answer, the homeless man he had spotted earlier morphed into something indescribable. An enormous hairy arm struck out and connected with his right temple. He tried to shield Helen from their attacker as he struggled to keep his feet. The blow must have hit him just in the right spot to cause him to lose his hearing. He saw Helen’s mouth moving, but he couldn’t make out any words. He shook his head trying to clear it. “Run!”

She held him as he staggered. The creature charged. Yanking free of her grip, Mac hurled himself at their attacker in a full body check that would’ve made his high school hockey coach proud. He felt—rather than heard—his left arm break upon impact. _Hope that buys her enough time to escape._

His world went black.

❖

“Henry, I need you to contact the New York office. Have them send a team to my location.” She waited for Henry’s response. With her cell phone tucked between her cheek and shoulder, she touched her fingers to MacGyver’s pulse point. _Slow. Early stages of hypothermia._

Something thumped against the metal door. Helen looked around for a weapon wishing she were armed. But Thornton had mentioned her date’s hatred guns—something from his childhood—so she’d left her firearm locked in the hotel safe.

“Yes, I’m here. What is their ETA? No. I realize I’m on vacation. I have a few minor scrapes and bruises, but my date has a broken arm, a concussion, and mild hypothermia so I would appreciate some help. Yes, I said date. Look, Henry. I need to go. Yes, thank you.”

Snapping the phone closed she checked her watch. MacGyver had been unconscious for approximately thirty minutes now. She would need to wake him soon, but first, she needed to set his broken arm. Something best done while he was still out. Searching the current room yielded nothing promising to use a splint, however, the small stockroom in the back had a set of narrow shelves that had seen better days. _Probably why they had been left behind._ The shelves were too long, and there was nothing handy to cut or break them, but she did find a couple of metal support rods that were about the right length.

Returning to her patient, she carefully straightened his left arm. “Sorry,” she mumbled as the bones slid into place. She tore strips from his shirt to bind the splint.

The temperature was dropping, and her coat was acting as an insulator between the cement floor and her shirtless date. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms to ward off the chill.“Not how I imagined this,” she said as she removed her top and slid in beside him using his leather jacket to cover them both.

❖

“Over here.” The shout was accompanied by the sound of a half-dozen boots thundering across the room. Flashlight beams crossed in a search pattern as they spread out looking for any hidden dangers. “Clear.”

A man and woman in their early twenties knelt beside the prone figures on the floor. “Okay, I did not need to see this. I’m going to need therapy.”

“Well, I happen to know a good therapist.”

“Very funny you two,” Helen said as she sat up, careful to keep herself covered with the leather jacket.

“Although, I must say you’ve got good taste,”her daughter Ashley teased as she looked appreciatively at MacGyver’s lean but muscled torso.

Their conversation woke the unconscious man who tried to sit up, only to lie right back down. “Whoa.”

“Try and stay still. You have a broken arm and a concussion.”

MacGyver shivered. He looked down at his naked torso. “Uh…”

Will handed him a blanket and then passed one to Helen. “The paramedics are on the way.” He led Ashley away so the two could have a little privacy.

Mac wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and grimaced as he looked around the dismal surroundings. “Normally, they at least buy me dinner first.”

Helen chuckled. “You were suffering from the early stages of hypothermia. I needed to keep you warm until the cavalry arrived.”

“What happened?”

“What do you remember?”

“Getting knocked on the head in the alley by something huge.” He rubbed his head gingerly. “Are you alright? How did …”

“You took the brunt of the attack when you stepped in front of me. There was a pipe laying in the alley; I struck while its back was turned.”

“It?”

Helen sighed. “The abnormal. What did Pete tell you about my work?”

“Nothing. He said you were an old friend.” He frowned. “It’s not like Pete to be cruel.”

“Cruel?”

He waved his good arm between them. “His not telling me this was work-related. Pete’s been known to play a practical joke now and then, but he doesn’t usually cause any collateral damage. I wasn’t prepared, and it put you in danger.”

As the paramedics hustled him into the back of the waiting ambulance, Helen returned his leather jacket. “Check the pocket.”

❖

The hospital had insisted Mac stay overnight so they could monitor his concussion and make sure the hypothermia had not caused any permanent damage. Pete had wisely not answered his phone calls. He still couldn’t fathom why he had played such a cruel joke. _Was his disastrous love life that funny?_

As he maneuvered his leather jacket over the sling on his left arm, he remembered. _Check the pocket?_ Reaching into the coat, he found a note.

> Mac,
> 
> As first dates go, this has been one of my most memorable. I’m in town for the rest of the week. Call me if you want to try again. The chef assures me he will squeeze us in.
> 
> Helen 555-3283

He smiled as he put the note back. Maybe he shouldn’t judge Pete too harshly.


End file.
